Chapter 84 Do Not Disappoint Me
THIRD PERSON POV.
A soft thud echoed through the cabin as the wheels finally touched down, sending a gentle shudder through the aircraft. For a moment, the world outside felt impossibly new.
Serena pressed her hands against the window, eyes wide as the desert sun bounced off the terracotta rooftops of Marrakech.
Trisha let out a soft gasp beside her.
“This… this is unreal,” she whispered, leaning closer to get a better view. “Look at all the colors.”
From above, the city looked like a tapestry—burnt orange walls, turquoise tiles glinting in the sun, tiny specks of people weaving through the winding streets. Even from the ground, the air still carried a faint scent of spices and something sweet, like fresh pastries drifting somewhere in the distance.
The jet door opened, and a warm breeze rolled in, ushering in the sounds of distant calls to prayer, faint music, and the soft hum of a city that never truly paused.
The sunlight caught in Serena’s hair as she stepped onto the tarmac, and for a moment the weight of everything back home, the danger, the stress, the endless calculations felt far away.
“There’s just something comforting in the air,” Serena said softly, taking a deep breath. “Can you feel it?”
Trisha spun in a small circle on the tarmac, laughing under her breath. “Yes, I do! I could get lost here forever. Even my legs don't hurt as much."
“Glad you ladies are loving it so far.”
Oscar’s voice laughed behind them as he and Damian walked down from the jet.
Damian had Serena’s purse draped casually over one hand, like she had abandoned it in his care.
He stepped up beside her, lowering his voice.“Have fun. Forget everything happening in Monterra for a bit,” he murmured near her ear.
Serena felt her cheeks warm slightly. “I will.” She whispered back.
~ ~ ~
Back in Monterra, three figures now stood in the dark study.
“You’ve failed,yet again.” The one seated behind the desk spoke between slow puffs of his cigarette. “It was such a simple task, yet somehow you still couldn’t deliver a better outcome.”
“It wasn’t my fault,” one of the men standing shot back, “I had barely any time to come up with a solid plan.”
“You said it would be easy to apprehend them on that damn private road of theirs! You said they would have nowhere to run because they wouldn’t risk retreating to Damian’s estate,” he growled, irritation bleeding into every word.
“That is what I thought,” Horace replied stiffly, taking a seat.
A heavy pause filled the room.
“So what the hell happened!” the man in the shadows screamed.
Horace exhaled sharply. “I didn’t count on their security being that good,” he admitted. “I mean, who would have expected them to have a freaking chopper on standby?”
“Speaking of their security,” Victor — the man from the monitoring room — cut in, his voice suddenly tight, “I think they just spotted our hidden camera.”
“How?” Horace demanded, immediately snatching the iPad from Victor’s hands.
On the screen, a video feed was already playing.
One of Damian’s security men had stopped near the tree line to take a leak but a second later, he reached up into the branches and pulled.
One of the small cameras Horace had paid good money to have hidden along the private road.
“No,” he gasped softly, as all three of them watched them pluck every camera they had planted along the road.
The last image they saw was when another of the security detail put duct tape over the camera lens blocking their view.
Disconnect those cameras immediately,” the voice from the desk commanded sharply. “The reason they’re not shutting them down is that they want to trace where the feed is transmitting to.”
Victor was already moving. “I’m on it,” he muttered,fingers flying across the keyboard as lines of code flashed rapidly across the monitor. Frank stepped closer behind him, tension written plainly across his face.
“Come on… come on…” Victor breathed under his breath.
One by one, the feeds began to drop each screen showing Connection lost.
Only when the last signal finally went dark did the tight knot in the room loosen, but only slightly.
A slow exhale drifted out from the shadows. “Horace,” the single word was enough to make him go rigid. “You are running out of chances,” the man said quietly, the calm in his voice far more dangerous than if he had raised it. “I will not tolerate another failure. Not when we are this close.”
Horace swallowed, his jaw tightening, but he kept his mouth shut. From the darkness, the faint orange tip of a cigarette flared as the figure took a slow, measured drag.
“With Serena away from Monterra, this is the narrowest window we will have,” he continued, his voice cold.. “We are not going to waste it.”
The silence that followed pressed heavily against the walls. “Proceed with the next phase,” he ordered at last.
Horace’s throat bobbed. “You mean...”
The man nodded.
“Okay, I’ll get on that,” Horace replied.
For a moment, it seemed like the man in the shadows was finished.But then his voice came again, low and deliberately edged. “Do not disappoint me again.”